Writing For Rodney – Day 3 | JAKE SZUFNAROWSKI

Writing for Rodney – Day 3

Here we go again! Back to Korakuen Hall in Tokyo for some wrestling tonight. It’s the DDT Promotion and I have no idea what to expect. I don’t know who wrestles for them and what any of their programs or storylines are, but that’s ok because it’s a well regarded promotion, and just being inside Korakuen Hall is magical. It’s the Japanese Mecca of Wrestling, and they have matches almost every single night, and only the top promotions in Japan get to run shows there. Through the magic of the internet I’m meeting up with a friend of a friend and his brother, who also flew over from New York City and happened to have an extra ticket for tonight’s long since sold out show. I only made the plan to come here a couple of weeks ago, and was lucky enough to get a decent seat at the Dome tomorrow, but all the other shows happening in Tokyo this week are sold out. I guess that’s an of weirdos like me have made the pilgrimage. Makes feel feel less weird. Just a little bit.

Wrestling was one of the great joys that Rodney and I shared. We went to so many shows. In fact, the first time I ever took Rodney across two state lines was to an ECW show in South Philadelphia. It was me and Rodney and Backyard Bill Stites, and and it provided one of the most striking and stringent memories I have of Rodney. Rodney was a black man. Born in Harlem and raised in the Bronx. But he never seemed to really identify with may parts of black culture. He was a rocker, though and through. Even through the first concert he event went to was with his mother, at Madison Square Garden, in 1977, when George Clinton landed the Mothership. Sure he loved soul and funk, be he was a rocker at heart. His favorite bands of all time were the Beatles and the Stones, and AC/DC and Aerosmith and Cheap Trick. And he had a bizarre fascination with bagpipe bands, which is a whole other story I’ll get into at some point this year.

For some reason that I was never able to ascertain, Rodney was pretty sure that Scottish blood pumped through his veins. So on this trip to Philly, we got lost and were somewhere in south Jersey, and in a very bad neighborhood, and there were a bunch of shady looking black dudes on the street. Shady enough the I reached down on the door handle two lock the doors. At which point I said “Rodney, how does it make you feel as a black man in America to see your people acting like this?” And he SNAPPED back – “JAKE I’M SCOTTISH. IF I WAS BLACK I’D BE FROM AFRICA!” Well fuck. Me and Backyard just looked at each other and both exhaled very heavy breaths at the same time, and I never brought it up to Rodney again. But I DID buy him a set of bagpipes for his next birthday. Something Im sure his roommate never forgave me for. And good, because fuck that guy.

That, again, is a story for another day, but today we are going to focus on wrestling. Another amazing trip was to the Hammerstein Ballroom for what turned out to be the final ECW show in New York City. The crew was me and Backyard Bill and Jason Bau. And Rodney was wearing a Mexican wrestling mask. It was the first time Jay had been out with Rodney outside of Wetlands, and at a certain point in the match Rodney started yelling at the referee, screaming about some rule infraction that the heel had committed, asking why the ref wasn’t going to penalize the offending wrestler. At that moment, I looked at Jay, and his head almost exploded. He couldn’t believe that this grown-ass-man, closing in on 40, still believed that Wrestling was real. But it made perfect sense to me. Rodney really had a gift for living in the moment. And not questioning the reality or the roles of entertainers. There was a captivating story being told, and he was all-in. Every time.

Rodney was a liver, and a believer. He loved what he loved and he made no apologies for it. Which is probably why we got along so well. We marched to the beat of our own drummers, often a rhythm that nobody else could hear, or wouldn’t likely even understand if they heard it. We were soul brothers. Still are, really.

I remember another time when we went to Madison Square Garden for a WWE show, after which I had WWE Superstar Chris Jericho booked to play a show with his band Fozzy at the Tribeca Rock Club. At that event it was me, Backyard Bill, Rockin Rod, and Corn Mo. Jericho was in a tag match against the Dudley Boys, and Bubba Ray Dudley cheated in the match to get the pinfall against Jericho and Rondey LOST IT! He stood up out off his seat and cursed the referee for missing yet another infraction, and Corn Mo was in disbelief. It wasn’t so much as Rodney was getting laughed at, but laughed WITH, because yet again another grown man was in admirable disbelief that Rodney could feel so deeply, about something that we sort of took instinctively as entertainment, but to Rodney, IT WAS STILL REAL TO HIM, DAMMIT!

Later that night, Corn Mo was opening for Fozzy and he brought up that Bubba Ray had cheated to win the match, and said, front he stage, “Fuck You Bubba Ray!” At which point Bubba, who was at the club, unbeknownst to Corn Mo, stormed the stage and proceeded to dress down and threaten Corn Mo which had him very obviously scared shitless. I looked over at Rodney, and he almost had a damn heart attack and started screaming yet again.

And in that moment, I fell even deeper in love with Rodney. Which was a spemthign that happened pretty much every time we hung out.

I wish he could have been with men tonight at in Tokyo Korakuen Hall. Really, I wish he was with me everywhere I go. And in many ways, he is. And Always will be.

#RodSpeed

Rodney was a liver, and a believer. He loved what he loved and he made no apologies for it. Which is probably why we got along so well. We marched to the beat if our own drummers, often a rhythm that nobody else could hear, or would likely even understand if they heard it. We were souls brothers. Still are, really.

I remember another time when we went to Madison Square Garden for a WWE show, after which I had WWE Superstar Chris Jericho booked to play a show with his band Fozzy at the Tribeca Rock Club. At that even it was me, Backyard Bill, Rockin Rod, and Corn Mo. Jericho was in a tag match against the Dudley Boys, and Bubba Ray Dudley cheated in the match to get the pinfall against Jericho and Rondey LOST IT! He stood up out off his seat and cursed the referee for missing yet another infraction, and Corn Mo was in disbelief. It wasn’t so much as Rodney was getting laughed at, but laughed WITH, because yet again another grown man was in admirable disbelief that Rodney could feel so deeply, about something that we sort of took instinctively as entertainment, but to Rodney, IT WAS STILL REAL TO HIM, DAMMIT!

And in that moment, I fell even deeper in love with Rodney. Which was a spemthign that happened pretty much every time we hung out.

I wish he could have been with me tonight in Tokyo at Korakuen Hall. Really, I wish he was with me everywhere I go. And in many ways, he is. And Always will be.

#RodSpeed